Want
by lookingforthestars
Summary: The dreams are becoming too much.
1. Chapter 1

**The hiatus is already making me stir crazy so this happened. It's definitely smutty but in sort of a nontraditional way, maybe? Thank you for reading, as always, and make my week with reviews if you're able to. ;) I'm setting this to complete for now but I may revisit it later, we'll see.**

Paige was so close. It felt like every cell in her body was electrified, coiled, desperate to fall. She bent down to capture Walter's lips, tangling her tongue with his, gasping into his mouth when he wrapped one arm around her back and seamlessly flipped them over, pressing her firmly into the mattress. He could always tell her orgasm was nearing by the way she tightened and pulsed around him, and he used all the tricks in the book to make her climax as hard as possible. The genius's hand fell to her thigh and lifted her leg, guiding it around him, and Paige grinned as she repeated the motion on the other side and crossed her ankles to pull him deeper into her. They both groaned at the increased contact and her hands flew to his neck, drawing him back down into a fiery kiss.

"Don't stop," she whimpered as she rolled her hips frantically. The liaison knew she was practically begging, but pride wasn't high on her list of priorities when he had her falling apart like this. Besides, the hunger in his eyes told her everything about the effect her unraveling had on him. " _Yes_ , I'm almost—."

Her sentence was cut off by a loud moan as she crashed, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her mind went blank, everything fading out of her perception except for the relief rushing through her body in heady waves. She was only vaguely aware of Walter increasing his speed, kissing a path down her neck, growling as he stilled his hips and followed her over the edge.

* * *

Paige woke up with a start, gasping for breath. She blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness in her room and brushed her tangled hair out of her face with one hand. The breeze from the fan made her shiver, and she realized that her clothing was soaked from sweat and arousal. She let out a frustrated sigh as she pushed herself off the bed.

This was a problem for teenage boys. Maybe adult men, on occasion. It was expected for them to snap out of dreams stimulated and aching. But she was a grown woman and although she couldn't say for sure if other women had such vivid, inconvenient dreams, they made her embarrassed and anxious all the same.

It was already close to six and Ralph would be awake soon enough, so Paige peeled the saturated fabric away from her body and tossed it into the hamper, grabbing a towel off the hook on her door. She was typically a shower girl in the mornings, but baths were a nice treat when she didn't have to rush, and the knot she'd developed in her neck from bolting up so suddenly would be served well by hot water and a sprinkle of scented salts.

She perched on the edge of the bathtub and turned on the faucet, making small adjustments to the temperature in between attempts to ease her muscles. Paige hoped the rest of the morning went more smoothly, because if this was what she could expect from the day, she had half a mind to just crawl back into bed and yank the covers over her head.

Okay, perhaps she was being childish. She couldn't neglect her duties as a mother or a liaison because of one difficult dream. Except…it wasn't just one.

Paige switched off the flow of water and tested it with her toes before lowered herself into the tub and letting the warmth envelop her. A cold shower may have been more effective, but she found them highly unpleasant for any purpose and the heat felt almost cathartic as it stripped away any evidence of the night on her skin.

She'd assumed they would stop, eventually. Just fade out until she could hardly remember them anymore. But to her chagrin, the opposite was happening. Now she was waking up abruptly three or four nights a week, dazed and drenched, sensations of pleasure she'd never actually experienced burned so deeply into her mind that she could probably go toe-to-toe with Walter's eidetic memory.

Paige dragged her hands over her face, wiping away stray droplets of water she'd accidentally splashed on herself. He was the last person she needed to be thinking about right now.

If she was being honest, that was most likely the problem. The more she pushed him out of her thoughts—the more she distanced herself consciously—the more her mind and body betrayed her. But what was the alternative? Allowing him to invade every minute of her waking thoughts was an equally disastrous proposition.

Regardless, she was sleeping less and less lately—the past few weeks were when it started to get really bad, sometime after their conversation in the capsule—and it was becoming obvious. Tim asked if she was getting sick and Toby made a sly remark, mercifully out of the team's earshot, about the trainee keeping her busy all night, every night. She'd answered noncommittally both times, because she sure as hell didn't plan on telling either of them the truth.

The dreams themselves weren't new. Paige had them occasionally, maybe every few months, since shortly after she'd started working at Scorpion. Her attraction to Walter was never in question. He was a good-looking man, interesting, loyal, kind. They had natural chemistry and she had caught him staring at her in ways that were not strictly platonic more than once. But _knowing_ —knowing that he loved her, and actively fighting that information—was what brought the visions around so often now, made them so intense and inescapable.

Paige cracked open a bottle of body scrub, but the lavender scent was suddenly overwhelming and she snapped it shut. Walter's loft always smelled of lavender now, had for years. She had no doubt that was for her, or at least it had been…maybe he was so used to the odor now that he didn't really notice.

She shivered lightly and wondered if the water was starting to cool, but a sweep over the surface confirmed that it was still fairly hot. _The lavender._ Cautiously, she pushed up the cap again, allowing the scent to fill her senses. Another shiver wracked her spine, stronger this time, and Paige realized with a mixture of annoyance and interest that she had triggered a memory of a previous dream. She'd felt it before she could see it, but with longer exposure to the stimulus, she started to replay the images clearly in her mind. Everything in that dream smelled like lavender to her _because_ she had been in Walter's loft. In his office.

On his desk.

The liaison shook her head to clear her thoughts, but she was only partially successfully and far too late to stop the pressure from building deep in her body. She was so tense it almost hurt. Paige leaned against the cold porcelain, willing herself to relax, but the images were insistent behind her closed eyelids and she felt her body winding tighter and tighter until she was certain she would go crazy if she didn't find an outlet.

Rationally, she recognized that she was making the problem worse every time she indulged in one of these fantasies, but his dark voice seemed to echo in her ears and her resolve crumbled hopelessly. Paige slid one hand down her stomach, under the water, biting her lip to stifle a sigh as she grazed the pads of her fingers over her center. Once she relinquished her control, the images from her dream—and a hundred others like it—flooded her mind all at once and sent her body up in flames.

She'd always had a vivid imagination, which she guessed was a blessing (or curse) of high EQ, and it wasn't failing her now. Paige's breathing grew louder as she pictured his lips passing over her skin teasingly, his tongue exploring her, his fingers curling into her, his weight pressing her against every available hard surface.

Paige lost herself, barely conscious of crooking her fingers inside her while the heel of her hand pressed down hard over her clit. The tightening of her walls brought her back to earth and she clasped her other hand over her mouth— _damn these thin apartment walls_ —seconds before crumbling, a gasp falling from her lips as she came. She dropped her head back onto the edge of the bathtub and rubbed herself to draw out her climax, shaking gently before the tension flowed out of her and left her weak and breathless.

No one else knew about this, how bad it was, how much wanting him kept her up at night. Even if she had someone to tell, she's not sure she would. She was well aware of how selfish this was, using him to fulfill her needs when he was clueless. When she refused to be with him. When he loved her.

But it was safe. Or if not safe, at least within her control. She could sob his name, ride out the high, and not worry about him walking away in the morning. It would never feel as good as actually being touched by him, she was sure, but it wasn't as risky either.

For not the first or last time, Paige wondered if he ever thought about her like this. If she'd ever been the face he saw when he…if he did at all. He wasn't exactly the typical man. But she found a while ago that the possibility didn't bother her. Walter has always respected her, made her feel strong and intelligent. Even in his mind, he would never degrade her.

It was still a mystery why the thought of being with Tim didn't make her ache the same way. Or at all. She was attracted to him and she enjoyed being around him. She knew he would probably be talented, would make it good for her. He was good. Things between them were good. Everything always just hovered around _good_ , and that seemed about as far as their relationship was capable of going.

And though her subconscious fantasies revolved exclusively around Walter, the truth was that she had far more physical experience with Tim than she ever had with the genius. All they'd shared was one kiss that barely lasted thirty seconds—she had kissed Tim for what probably amounted to hours. It was pleasant enough. But she never felt his lips on hers for days afterward, like she did with that rushed, frenetic moment in the garage. Paige knew Walter would pour everything into pleasing her, just like he poured everything into that kiss.

She'd been alone for a long time, celibate for most of her twenties, and she assured herself frequently that it was normal to fantasize. But to call this…everything she felt…a fantasy seemed misleading. Fantasies were about wish fulfillment; a fleeting, one-sided impulse about what could have been. Sure, she had imagined in extensive detail what he would do to and for her. But right underneath that was an irrefutable reality—that she'd always wanted him to be happy, wanted for years to be the person that made him happy, wanted to take care of him while he selflessly took care of everyone else.

And that sounded like more than attraction. More than lust. More than a fantasy.

It sounded like love, and that scared Paige the most.


	2. Chapter 2

**Pretty much everyone requested a second part from Walter's perspective, and I love writing him, so here it is and I hope it's everything you wanted. Thank you for your encouragement, as always; its impact really cannot be overstated. :) I'm torn between adding a third part or leaving it like this…feel free to share your opinions.**

Paige would kill him if she knew.

It wasn't his place to think of her that way. He'd ruined his chance and now she was committed to Tim, and that made the trainee the only man she would want having these dreams about her. Didn't it?

But Walter couldn't stop them. Attraction had always seemed so superficial to him and for many years, he assumed he was simply incapable of it. Paige, though… _God_ , Paige. She had no idea how close he'd come to grabbing her, pulling her against him, kissing her until neither of them could think straight, a thousand times. He never wanted that before. And knowing that someone else could do that to her, whenever they wanted, and that he would never feel her lips on his or her hands running over his face and through his hair again was…torture.

The worst part was that he'd had her, right there in the garage, clutching him like her life depended on it—the one time it didn't—and Walter wished that they had never crossed that line. Or he wished that he had pushed her onto that desk and spent the entire night showing her exactly what she did to him. Anything but experiencing her taste, the heat of her skin, the perfect fit of her body against his, and then just letting her leave.

He wasn't ready then. Logically, he knew that, just like he knew that he still had changes to make if he was ever going to be the right person for her. Cabe was correct about one thing, at least—Paige's needs had to come first. She was slipping away and the distance between them seemed to grow every day, and as painful as that was, he would accept it if it was really what she wanted.

But at night, in his dreams, Paige was his. He tried to fool himself, claim that he had no way of subduing those thoughts, but he'd always exercised a measure of control over his subconscious and those images played out, over and over again, only because he let them. Sometimes they were innocent—the two of them eating dinner with Ralph, relaxing together in her apartment, working on projects at the garage. But the more vivid dreams were what had him waking up in the middle of the night, sweating, so frustrated he wanted to bang his head against the wall. She would be under him, writhing as his hands ran over her body, rewarding his efforts with the breathless chanting of his name. Her skin would flush and her lips would be swollen and her hair would fall into her face as he made love to her, taking to her to the edge and watching in awe as she lost control.

There was a significant statistical likelihood that Tim had seen her that way, and that reality was nothing short of nauseating. Walter knew she'd had feelings for him—perhaps strong feelings, once upon a time—but he didn't dare assume she had ever wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Women like her didn't fall into bed with men like him. It was only in his mind that she would look up at him that way, eyes full of desire and something deeper, something reserved exclusively for him, something he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life.

Walter pressed his head back into the pillow and dropped his hands over his face. He'd let his thoughts run wild and now his body was wound so tightly he felt like he might actually break apart. Groaning at the unbearable tension and chastising himself for setting up another miserable morning, the genius pushed himself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom, heading straight for the one place he might be able to find relief.

He turned the handle all the way to the left and pressed his forehead against the tiles, letting the freezing water run down his back. Every inch of his body was on fire and the icy spray barely brought him back to room temperature. His thoughts were still racing, making it impossible for him to relax, and he didn't have to look down to know that the cold shower wasn't doing a damn thing.

Of course. His craving for her defied logic and reason. Why shouldn't it defy biology?

Walter couldn't very well go downstairs and greet the team like this, but he was reluctant to accept the obvious solution. It was rare that the genius gave in to his physical urges. Not that he didn't have them—he was a healthy man in his thirties who hadn't had sex in five years and worked in close proximity to the love of his life every day. He had them. But he usually sought a distraction, a project, physical activity, anything to help his mind conquer his body.

Seeking his own release didn't used to be a complicated proposition, until he met her. The truth was that he was unable to think about anyone _but_ Paige. Other women had never provided him much stimulation anyway—just enough to get him where he needed to be before friction took care of the rest—but now, as illogical as it sounded, that gave him the gnawing sensation of being unfaithful.

He'd succumbed a couple of times, when the visions in his head of the liaison became too strong to ignore, but the satisfaction that rushed through him was mixed with a heavy burden of guilt that made it difficult to even look her in the eye. She was his friend, she was everything to him, and to use her for his own gratification felt disrespectful, felt like a betrayal of her trust.

And it was a mirage. It would never be real.

But he just needed her so badly, needed to let go, and even a fictional connection would be enough right now. He would deal with the guilt later. Walter considered raising the temperature but left it cold—somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that was punishment—and stepped fully under the falling water, bracing against the wall with one hand as he wrapped the other around himself.

Paige consumed his thoughts in an instant, and Walter groaned quietly as she came into view behind his closed eyes. He'd never had much of an imagination, but he could picture her movements so clearly that he swore he almost felt her body against his.

 _Settling on top of him as he sat on their bed, propped up against the pillows, his hands gripping her waist to pull her closer._

 _Sliding his palm up her warm stomach to her breast, sighing as he brushed her nipple._

 _Pushing down on him, slowly, moving her hips back and forth until the sensation became too much for both of them and she whined in frustration._

 _Shivering as his thumbs hooked around her underwear, kneeling so he could push them off, crashing back down to tease him with her arousal._

 _Running her fingers along his jaw, pulling him into a deep kiss, affirming her love for him against his lips as her hands tangled in his hair._

Walter's breathing sounded like a freight train in his ears and his hand curled into a fist against the tiled wall.

 _Lowering herself onto him, stroking his tongue with hers as she took him in, gasping softly when he went deep. Melting against him as he met her thrusts, starting gently, growing more forceful as she moaned his name._

 _Grasping his fingers and pressing them over her clit, encouraging him to touch her, rocking hard against him, tightening her grip on the back of his neck to let him know she was close._

 _Grinding down on him one last time before coming apart, crying out his name in his ear, pulsing and trembling around him, begging for him to join her._

 _Holding him to her tightly as he complied, shuddering underneath her, the combined energy of their bodies strong enough to power all of Los Angeles._

 _Pulling back to look at him, whispering how happy she was, her eyes shining before she recaptured his lips._

It was that last image that finished him off and he jolted as his release slammed into him. He hadn't allowed himself an orgasm in months and he slumped against the side of the shower, dizzy and fighting for air, flinching as the sharp cold of the water finally started to sink in. Walter adjusted the temperature, inhaling and exhaling roughly while he waited for the aftershocks to subside.

He ran his hands through his wet hair and reached over to retrieve his shampoo. Business would have to go on as usual, but first he had to figure out how the hell he was going to stand within twenty feet of Paige without carrying her up to the loft and recreating every torturous detail of that fantasy until she was shaking in his arms.

It was going to be a long day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is the third and final chapter. I was having trouble working out the concept originally, so thank you to ScorplinginTraining for suggesting a time jump. This is in the future, when Walter and Paige are already together. It got a little lengthy (for me, anyway) but if you've got a case of the Mondays, then I really hope this helps. Thank you for reading, reviews are incredibly welcome. ;)**

He was used to this. Perhaps that wasn't quite the right expression, since Paige was still capable of blowing his mind every time. But on the twenty-six occasions they'd been intimate, Walter had learned to process the sensations more and more efficiently until there was almost no hesitation in his actions. He knew how to handle it when her bare skin pressed against his, when she stroked him, when she swirled her tongue over that spot on his neck, when she moaned loudly in his ear, when she trembled and came apart around him.

It only took him getting shot—a wound on his shoulder that looked worse than it was—to shake them out of their standoff. Paige had broken up with Tim and gone straight to the hospital, rambling about the prospect of losing him and how none of the problems they imagined facing would mean anything if he was gone.

Walter wished he could remember every word, but the pain medication made his memories of that night foggy. He thought he might ask her to repeat it one day.

She'd propped herself up on the corner of the bed and kissed him, careful not to exacerbate his injuries. During his recovery, they couldn't do much beyond kissing—not that Walter had any complaints—but Paige made it clear that when he was ready, she would be too.

The first time had been a little quick and feverish, for both of them, months of sexual frustration releasing at once. She'd assured him that was okay, and once the initial rush passed, they were able to go slow and discover all the ways they could take care of each other. But now she was underneath him on the couch in his loft, tongue exploring his, arms wrapped around his neck, heartbeat increasing steadily, and when he pulled back for air, she stared up at him with _that look_ and he panicked.

"Walter?" Her voice was confused and slightly hurt as the genius scrambled off of her, onto the far end of the couch, and dropped his head into his hands while he drew in shallow breaths. "Walter, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled through his fingers, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Paige made a soothing _shh_ sound and inched closer to him, leaving a measured space between them. "Is it okay if I touch you?" Walter nodded and she brought her hand to the middle of his back, alternating between rubbing circles with her palm and scratching with her nails. "Are you overwhelmed?" Another nod. "Okay. Good overwhelmed or bad overwhelmed?"

He huffed out a laugh and lowered his hands from his face, focusing on their singular point of contact for stability. When he was struggling to express himself, Paige had started asking him these multiple choice questions to find the root of the problem. It should have seemed condescending, but somehow with her it never did. "Good," he answered, noticing her shoulders relax in his peripheral vision. "It's just, uh…the way you looked at me. Just now."

"How was I looking at you?"

Walter knew she was confused—he was too—but she was quiet and patient as he collected his thoughts. "I c-can't describe it, but…but I, uh, I remembered it. I used to imagine you looking at me like that. Or, rather, I d-dreamed it. And for a second I worried that…that maybe this wasn't actually real."

It had just been so eerily similar to his fantasies, that love and desire aimed directly at him, and he'd spent so long believing it would only exist in his mind. A smile tugged at the corner of Paige's lips and she closed the rest of the distance, moving her hand up to massage the base of his neck. "It's real. I'm here with you, Walter."

"I know." The genius ran his palms over his eyes and through his hair, feeling incredibly stupid. It was rare for them to get time alone together, and here he was, wasting it. "It's absurd. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No. Not absurd. I understand." He glanced over at her, eyebrows furrowed, and Paige let out a quiet sigh. "I used to dream about you, too. Before we were together. And, um, sometimes they were…really vivid. They felt real, and it was almost a shock to wake up and realize they weren't. And I'm happy, Walter. I'm so happy, and the idea that all of this could disappear in a second is scary. So yes, I understand."

Walter stared for a second, absorbing her confession, and then his lips were on hers again, his fingers tangling in her already messy hair. He'd never even considered that she dreamed about them being together, and that, combined with her insistence that she was _happy_ with him, frankly made it difficult to keep his hands off her.

Paige moaned softly as his lips traveled to her neck and sucked on the skin there, his tongue traveling up and down in slow strokes. She'd been fumbling with his top button and gave up, clutching the back of his head with both hands instead to keep him from pulling away. Her breathing was heavier when she murmured, "Did you ever dream about this?"

He nipped at her lightly, earning a sharp inhale before moving lower. "Walter," she said quietly, and he sighed, hoping he'd been able to distract her. "Please. I want to know."

The genius detached himself and buried his head in her shoulder while she kept her hands in his hair, dragging her nails over his scalp in the way that always made him shiver. "Paige. Don't."

"You can tell me anything," she whispered reassuringly. But that wasn't true. How could he look her in the eye and admit that he had imagined taking her on every surface in the garage, that he'd come just thinking about being inside her, all while she was dating another man? It didn't matter that she _had_ wanted him, and those dreams were a reality now…he overstepped his boundaries and nothing would absolve him of that.

He shut his eyes, reveling in their closeness but wondering if he deserved it at that moment. "Please. I don't want to talk about this."

Paige leaned back and pushed on his chest, forcing him to sit up and look at her. "You feel guilty? Because we weren't together yet?" Realizing that his answer was probably written all over his face, he murmured his agreement and dropped his eyes. She tilted his chin to face her again. "No. I'm the one who should feel guilty. I imagined it too and…" Her cheeks blushed pink and he knew what she was going to say before she said it. "And you were the one that I thought about when I…and I was so selfish because I was too scared to really be with you, Walter. I hate that we hid our feelings for so long and I don't want to do that anymore. I just want us to be honest. Do you understand?"

The genius released a deep breath and nodded. When they started dating, Walter knew he would have to trust her completely, and that included opening up to her now.

"Tell me." Paige leaned in to press light kisses along his cheek and jaw while her fingers curled up around his shirt collar. "Tell me, Walter. I want to make it real for you."

He inhaled raggedly, her attentions already causing him to lose focus. "It doesn't matter. B-being with you has already been better than anything in my head."

She smiled against his skin. "That's sweet. But we were both unhappy then and I…I don't want those memories to be painful. I want to make them good. Let me do that." Sensing that he was still hesitant, Paige pulled back and bit her lip as she watched his face. "Do you want me to start?"

 _Oh boy._ Hearing her fantasies about him in any amount of detail was likely to give Walter a stroke. But Paige was determined and nothing could shake her off an idea when she was like this, so he might as well let her take the lead. "Please."

"Okay," she said affectionately, pushing herself up from the couch. Walter's eyes followed her as she crossed to the other side of the loft, toward his bed, and he was surprised when she turned sharply and ended up next to his desk instead. "Come here."

He swallowed hard and followed her. His workstation was relatively uncluttered, and he found himself grateful for that when Paige pushed everything haphazardly against the wall and then lifted herself onto the edge, leaving her feet a few inches off the floor. She was wearing a short black skirt and it rode up on her legs as she separated them to pull Walter closer, running her hands along his arms as she looked up at him.

"Okay so far?" The genius was practically unable to speak, so he settled for nodding again, hoping Paige wouldn't realize what an incoherent idiot he was. "I always had this fantasy where we would come home after a long case and…and I could feel the adrenaline running through my veins and I wasn't able to wind down so I would come up here, and you would be working at your desk, focusing on something, and then I…" She let go of him and leaned her weight back on her hands, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and Walter was mesmerized. "I would sit right here, and you would stand over me just like this, and you would kiss me."

Walter silently sought her permission and the look in her eyes told him she was ready for him to participate. He braced himself on either side of her and sealed his mouth over hers, teasing her softly with his tongue. Their hands stayed firmly planted on the desk and as much as it killed Walter not to touch her, he was determined to follow her instructions perfectly. She whimpered into the kiss, sucking on his bottom lip before releasing him.

"And then…" Her voice was huskier when she spoke again and Walter felt his entire body stiffen. "You would unbutton my shirt, slowly, a-and take off my bra."

He obeyed, gently pushing on the closures of her green blouse until they popped open, revealing her pale skin. His eyes were locked on hers and she was practically shaking under his touch. Walter pushed the fabric over her shoulders and deftly unclasped the front of the bra—she'd been wearing undergarments like that a lot more often since he started removing them.

Paige let him work the straps off before she lifted her wrists, shedding the material and leaving her bare from the waist up. "In my dream you kissed my neck and my chest u-until you reached my breasts, and you would leave your mark there until I was tired of waiting and…and then you would use your tongue…"

She trailed off, her eyes slipping shut, and Walter sensed that she needed time to recover. He went to work placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, smirking as her head rolled to the side to give him better access, and traveled down to her collarbone, tracing patterns with his tongue. When he reached the top of her breasts, he sucked hard at her skin, almost embarrassingly turned on by the fact that she wanted evidence of his presence on her body.

Paige was breathing in shallow bursts, her head tilted back, and she groaned as his tongue flattened against her nipple. He focused on the sides first, alternating left and right, and then wrapped his lips around it before repeating the process. She shifted on the desk, from impatience or discomfort, he couldn't tell, and he took that as a cue to move to her other breast.

"Okay," she said shakily after a minute. He could tell by her tone that she needed more, and he waited patiently for her next request. "My s-skirt and underwear. Off."

Walter felt a little smug about her inability to form full sentences; watching her gradually lose control like this was fascinating. His fingers hooked around her waistband and she lifted up her hips so he could tug both layers down her legs and throw them aside. She'd taken off her heels earlier, before they got on the couch, and the genius found himself wishing that she left them on. _Maybe next time._

"In my dreams," Paige started again, as if she had to consciously remind herself of the experiment they were conducting, "you would g-go down on me…and you always started off slow until I had to beg you to…" Every inch of her skin seemed to flush at once as she looked at him sheepishly. She wasn't normally this explicit about what she wanted, and clearly there were some things she might not be ready to say out loud. Walter was pretty confident he could fill in the blanks, though.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder to let her know that he understood before kneeling in front of the desk, hooking his arms underneath her legs for leverage. His own tension had been building steadily, and though part of him was desperate to bring her off so he could feel her around him, she wanted slow and he planned to torture her until she was pleading with him.

Walter drifted his lips over her inner thighs, applying barely any pressure, stopping occasionally to mark a spot and then soothe it with his tongue. The room was silent except for her exaggerated breathing and a sound that the genius swore was blood rushing under her skin. He shifted his weight on his knees before sweeping his tongue over her center, causing her to jolt and mumble what might have been an expletive.

He forced himself to maintain a deliberate pace, staying low, switching between the tip of his tongue and the top, sucking at her lightly. Her taste was almost overwhelming, as were her breathless words of encouragement, which were gradually increasing in volume. Walter wasn't keeping track of time, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before Paige choked out, "H-higher. And y-your fingers. Please."

The genius untangled his right hand from her leg and stroked her with his index finger. "One…" he murmured, adding his middle finger and pushing in deeper, "or two?"

"Holy…" Her eyes squeezed shut again and she bit down hard on her bottom lip. She knew he was teasing her but was too far gone to care. "Two."

Walter's nose bumped her clit at the same time that he curled his fingers inside her and she moaned, pressing against him as much as she could without falling off the desk. Her palms were gripping the edge tightly—she was close—and he swirled his tongue over the nerves as he rubbed her, her arousal generously coating his hand. She opened her mouth to say something but all that came out was a gasp as she tightened around his fingers and crumbled.

Paige wasn't on the couch or bed, she didn't have anything comfortable to lean back against, so the genius quickly pushed onto his feet and wrapped one arm around her body to steady her. He left his other hand where it was, sustaining her orgasm as she collapsed into him, and Walter couldn't suppress his grin. Not because he was satisfied with her reaction—though he was—but because this had been his fantasy as much as hers, holding her while she shivered in pleasure, and he waited for her to come all the way down before removing his fingers and kissing the side of her head.

"I love you," Walter murmured. It wasn't part of her dream—or maybe it was, and she just hadn't verbalized it—but he figured she would forgive him for saying it anyway.

"I love you," she echoed, resting against his shoulder as her breathing normalized, her arms too weak from holding herself up to do much else. "Walter?"

"What do you need?"

Paige smiled at the concern in his voice and shook her head. "Nothing. I was thinking about…" She took a deep breath and reclined just enough to look up at him, her expression serious. "About how I always knew my dreams wouldn't be as good as actually being with you, but I thought they would be enough. And I was wrong. I don't really know how I…lived…without this."

Walter pushed down the lump in his throat and captured her lips, bringing both of his arms around her back as her hands gripped the bottom hem of his shirt. He understood perfectly. Every time she so much as touched his arm, he wondered how he managed to push her away for years. All he could see then were the problems. If he'd known he was capable of being this happy, he would have realized it was worth any difficulties they might encounter.

Paige sighed contentedly into the kiss before pulling back, her hands pressing on his chest. "Are you ready?"

He'd been more than eager to fulfill her fantasies, but Walter's insecurity returned at the thought of letting her do the same. The genius wasn't _overly_ experimental in bed, but what if he asked her for something that she found disrespectful or strange? "We don't have to," he said apprehensively.

"I want to," Paige insisted, using her recovered strength to place her palms on his shoulders. "I won't push you to do anything you're uncomfortable with, Walter, but I hope you'll trust me."

If he could put his life in her hands during missions, regularly and without a second thought, then he had to believe this would be okay. "I do."

The liaison smiled, sweetly, but with a hint of trouble he recognized all too well by now. "Where?"

He knew what she was asking. Walter had more fantasies stored up about her than he could even recall at will, but tonight he just wanted her, pure and simple. He glanced toward the bed and Paige planted another kiss on his cheek before allowing him to help her off the desk, keeping her fingers curled around his hand as she started across the room.

Walter tugged her back to him. "Wait." Her eyes were questioning, and his voice sounded a little strangled when he explained, "I j-just want to look at you."

Her skin tinged red again and he wondered if he had embarrassed her, but the liaison smiled and stood still as his gaze raked over her. Walter was fully clothed and maybe that was unfair, but the fact that she trusted him with her body this way made his heart pound as much as actually seeing every part of her. It was difficult for him, being vulnerable, but it wasn't naturally any easier for her. He vowed to ensure that she never felt self-conscious with him.

"You're beautiful," he mumbled, pulling her closer. Heat radiated off her skin and Walter felt it from his head to his toes.

"Thank you." Paige lifted her hands up to his face, stroking his cheekbones with her thumbs. "But stop stalling," she teased before walking backward, bringing him with her. Walter complied readily, unwilling to break their contact for any reason, least of all his own anxiety.

Her legs hit the edge of the mattress and she stopped. Walter, not quite thinking clearly with the way she was staring up at him, stood in confusion before he realized that she was waiting for his direction.

Did he want her above him or beneath him? _Both. Everything. Now._ He blinked, scrambling for some kind of control, before his instincts took over. "On the bed."

The words came out raspy and Walter might have been mortified had Paige not pulled out of his grasp and lowered herself onto the mattress, moving back slowly until she was reclining against the pillows, never breaking eye contact with him. It was almost too much, her seducing him like this, and if he was still dreaming, somehow, then he wanted to stay here forever.

He rested his knee on the bed and crawled over her, pushing his weight up onto his arms so they were barely touching. Paige curled the sheets in her fists and Walter felt another surge of heat as he realized that she was restraining herself from reaching out to him. "My clothes," he breathed, suddenly suffocated by the weight of the fabric. "I want you to take them off."

Paige exhaled audibly and used her nimble fingers to separate the buttons on his shirt, moving much slower than he knew she was capable of—when they were in a rush, she could have it off in seconds. The last closure fell open and it occurred to Walter that he was in the wrong position, so he transitioned onto his knees and Paige mirrored him, stretching up to push the shirt over his shoulders. She traveled back down, grazing his abdomen as she lifted the hem of his undershirt and tugged it over his head.

She hadn't gotten to his lower half yet, but that was going to have to wait because Walter thought he might explode without her hands on him. "You…" Paige tilted her head up and he was temporarily distracted by the scent of her perfume as it occupied his senses. "In my dreams, you always, uh, touched me. M-my chest. And my arms."

The genius deliberated whether his request sounded awkward out loud, but those thoughts dissipated as soon as her palms smoothed over his skin. His eyes closed involuntarily as she allowed her hands to explore, her lips trailing softly against his neck. Walter tensed as her fingers fluttered near his waistband and he was worried Paige might think he was uncomfortable and stop, but she seemed to be able to tell the difference. He shuddered as she traced a path up his arms, around his shoulders—lingering on the scar from his bullet wound—and down his chest, grazing over his nipples.

He was pretty sure he could be satisfied with this, for the rest of his life, but his desire for her was growing painful and he wanted every part of her body against him, on him, around him. "Paige," he said lowly, but when she pulled back to look at him, he found that he didn't know how to explain what he needed.

"Whatever you want," she whispered, dropping her hands to his waist and keeping them still there. "If you can't tell me, just show me."

Walter let out a relieved breath, amazed at her understanding even though he knew, logically, that had always been her gift. It was why he hired her, trusted her with everything, handed his company to her even before he really knew the kind of person she was.

He undid the button on his pants—as much as he enjoyed having Paige strip him, he really just needed them off, now—and divested himself of the rest of his clothes, leaning at an awkward angle on the mattress to kick them off. Even fantasies had their logistical problems, but the amusement in her eyes faded quickly when he straightened up, placed his palm on the small of her back, and lowered her onto the bed before bracing himself on his hands on either side of her.

The genius was more than ready and had been since he had her spasming on his desk, but he forced himself to stop and clear his mind. Paige watched him with concern as she brought her palms up to knead the back of his head. "Are you okay?" He nodded against her hands. "What can I do?"

Walter felt another surge of affection for the woman under him. The physical intimacy was new enough, even though he'd been improving, but he was stretching himself emotionally too and she knew it. Expressing his thoughts, his desires, his needs—that was far out of his comfort zone and not quite as easy for him to learn as sexual technique. If he was drawing on his fantasies, he knew exactly what he wanted from her, but verbalizing it was another hurdle entirely. What if…

"Hey," she interrupted his train of thought, twisting his curls around her fingers and calming him instantly. "There's almost nothing I wouldn't do for you, Walter. Tell me what you want."

He bowed his head, sure he was blushing just as furiously as she had earlier. But he had to trust her. If anyone accepted and championed his quirks, it was certainly Paige. "In my dreams, you always…" Walter inhaled sharply as she scratched his scalp to spur him on. "You s-said my name a lot. Whenever I did something you liked. Hearing it in your voice, it's…incredible."

The genius tilted his head to look at her, hesitantly, but instead of the contempt he'd expected—wasn't he being narcissistic?—her eyes darkened and he swore he felt her trembling. They lunged at each other simultaneously and relief pulsed through him when their lips finally met. He savored the kiss for a few minutes until Paige started to squirm beneath him, growing restless, and he lifted up her hips as he pushed into her.

She flexed her muscles around him, groaning, and he found himself relieved that she was close because he wasn't sure how long he could hold out. Everything up to that point had been overwhelming and intense and more than a little exhausting, but he tried his best to relax and focus on her movements. The liaison's hands roamed over his arms, his shoulders, his back, stopping only to clutch at him during harder thrusts. His name would rush from her lips, then, not so often that it sounded forced, but enough that he felt pressure building every time it came out in a broken sigh or a quiet whimper.

She was gripping his back more frequently now as he picked up the pace, and in one flexible movement, she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer. The deeper angle drew moans from both of them and he kissed her fiercely before burying his head in her neck, breathing her in. "Paige," he panted, the words coming out before he realized he was speaking, "I need y-you to say…"

Walter stopped, shutting his eyes. Yes, she'd always declared her feelings for him in his dreams, but this was real life and that wasn't something he wanted to hear from her under compulsion. But Paige understood and pressed her nose against his cheek, her breath hot on his neck. "I love you," she whispered. "I'm yours. Completely."

He turned to face her and touched his forehead to hers, silently thanking her for reassuring him.

Paige rolled her hips and tightened around him again, arching her back, right on the edge. "Keep going," she coaxed in a strained voice.

Emboldened by her response, and rapidly ceding control himself, Walter reached between them and ran two fingers over her clit, pleased when her body jerked. He dropped his head to murmur in her ear, "In my dreams, I would k-kiss you and listen to you m-moan when you came."

He hardly expected Paige to orgasm on demand, but he continued to stimulate her as she kissed him and it was less than a minute before she was biting down on his bottom lip and tensing, moaning, gasping his name. The vibrations shot straight through his body and had him shuddering and collapsing on top of her soon after.

She was still weak and quivering herself but she held him tightly until he regained his strength and was able to support his weight. He settled next to Paige and draped his arm over her bare stomach, craving her warmth against him, and she tilted her head to the side to smile at him, her eyes a little glazed. "How was that?"

"Amazing." Walter said, leaning in to trap her bottom lip between his. "Amazing."

Despite his significant vocabulary, the genius knew he was coming up short. Being with her was always _amazing_ and he was fairly sure that as long as he loved her like this, that wouldn't change. But he'd been skeptical that this could ease his guilt, turn the painful memories of denial and frustration into something good, and that it had _worked_ was a testament to how much she was able to get inside his head.

Paige rolled over and curled up against him, resting her head on his chest. It still surprised him, how comfortable this was, how much a person who had never enjoyed touch could crave it. "You know…" He could feel her smile. "Even though we're together, I hope you'll still dream about me."

Walter knitted his brows. He had conjured up plenty of detailed fantasies once they became intimate, of course, but he didn't want to have those dreams again. They only plagued him because he'd lost her, he didn't have her and thought he never would, and if he was lucky he wouldn't be faced with that reality again. "Why?"

"Because I really got to see you." She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, just above the mark that reminded them both of what brought them together, and met his eyes. "You're so concerned with taking care of my needs that sometimes I don't know what yours are. But tonight you finally told me. I think it was good for us and we should do it again. I want to know more."

Her words were innocent, but they sparked a familiar heat deep under his skin and her breath caught as he trailed his fingertips up and down her spine. "Paige, if you really want to know what I dreamed about before we were together…" Walter eased her onto her back, soaking in the sight of her sated body and smirking as she flushed. "I have three years of perfect memories."


End file.
